The Distraction
by Taiga
Summary: It has finally happened: Laharl and Flonne have gotten married. Now it's time for the honeymoon... at least it would be if the Netherworld would let them get to it! One-shot.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Disgaea. All intellectual property related to Disgaea belong to Nippon Ichi. _

_Beta version originally posted on DW. Final version also posted on Tumblr and AO3.  
_

_2013/05/29: Fixed some mistakes and formatting._

* * *

**The Diversion**

...

They should have eloped.

They should have sleep gassed the reception.

Heck, he was now thinking that he should have given the whole "let's ride on our mechas into the sunset" idea more serious thought when Flonne proposed it.

But no, Laharl had decided to keep the whole wedding small but rather traditional for Flonne's sake... though she had been rather flabbergasted about the "you may now punch the groom" part. And now, he had to pay the price.

Holding on to Flonne's hand, he dashed as fast as he could in the hotel's corridors, hoping to avoid reporters. No previously set barriers or seals, no angry threats, not even a barrage of Meteor Impacts had managed to hold them back. The only option left for the two of them was to continuously break the Netherlympics sprint records while trying to dodge cameras and the like. Nearly all news channels from various Netherworlds had piled up around the entire neighborhood, waiting to catch a glimpse of the new couple, possibly in a compromising position. It wasn't everyday that a demon, a half-human demon on top of that, would marry an archangel-slash-fallen angel; everyone wanted a piece of the action. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, one they had been waiting 700 years for!

Laharl turned a corner only to find himself crashing into a half naked succubus. "Helloooo King~" she purred out. "How about a few questions~?" A small yelp of horror was her only answer as a suddenly angry Flonne rammed through the crowd, yanking her new husband out and suddenly taking the lead in the chase. "At least tell me if you know what you're supposed to do with your wife now!"

This was too much...

Finally, a small light of salvation showed itself in the form of a closing elevator door. The newlyweds dived into it, the doors shutting behind them, finally giving them a moment or two of peace. Laharl simply raised his fist, pounding their floor level while trying to catch his breath. Flonne slowly took off her shoes, tossing them aside and massaging the soles of her feet. Heels weren't meant for running after all. "This... this is getting a little ridiculous Laharl..." she finally said, suddenly regretting not following his advice to wear sneakers.

She didn't have to tell him twice. At this rate, they'll be exhausted by the time they make it to their room, never mind that they probably wouldn't be able to open the fridge without the press knowing about it. Urgh, this was a disaster.

Etna hijacking the speakers and playing her Indiana Jones soundtrack also didn't help.

He was already trying to work out a way of punching through the elevator's roof when Flonne picked up a folded piece of paper that was apparently hiding inside his jacket. Strange... someone must have placed it there while they rammed through the crowd. He was about to toss it aside when he noticed just from who it was.

After what seemed like an eternity of reading and looking positively dumbfounded, Laharl finally got up to his feet and simply jabbed a different floor button then their current destination. "Get ready to run," he finally said to Flonne, his normal cocky grin finally returning while grabbing her wrist.

...

* * *

...

The royal couple was expected on the 13th floor; this didn't stop the media from hijacking the entire hotel to make sure they blocked off every possible path to catch the newlyweds. Of course, those stationed on the other floors weren't exactly happy about it. They were simply the backups and the decoys; they knew very well that they weren't expected to pick anything up today and that they would still get it from their bosses for it. The feeling only intensified as the news spread about the couple escaping the lobby. Most of the reporters on the various floors simply dropped their cameras and contemplated making the most of this situation by raiding the bar downstairs. After all, they all expected them to try to dash to their room, it was their problem now.

So when the elevator door opened on the 9th floor, no one was ready to catch the Overlord and the Archangel as they sprinted away. By the time the news crew managed to start up their camera again, the two of them had already disappeared around a corner and by the time they caught up, all they saw was a door unceremoniously slamming shut in the corridor before them.

Without thinking, the two reporters barged in to find... an old vampire? At least that's what it looked like with his long silvery hair. He was apparently enjoying his afternoon tea which was being served by an extremely flustered maid, yelping in fright and desperately alternating between trying to pull down her skirt and hiding her very apparent lack of chest with her tray.

"Have you seen the King and his wife around here?" The succubus reporter finally asked after a few moments or two of staring straight at them. The only answer she received in return was a frantic shake of the maid's head as she turned redder and redder by the second, making her look like a tomato wearing a purple wig. Dammit this was a waste of time! And they...

Wait, now that she thought about it, something was off here. That vampire wasn't a vampire at all! His fangs were obviously plastic... and he looked too stereotypical for a vampire! Seriously, no one dressed in the black cape and suit combo anymore. That was so 5000 years ago! And a fake vampire with a nervous maid? Oh come on, it didn't take a genius to know what was going on here.

Aggressively wiggling her hips, she advanced closer to the maid, who was at this point shooting nervous looks at the "vampire", who didn't seemed bothered one bit. "Don't think I don't know what's going on here," she purred out in the maid's ear. She heard the maid swallow. "Hee~ How kinky~ Well, don't let us ruin your fun there, we'll just be on our way... unless you want us to join in the party?"

A small squeal escaped the maid's mouth as she watched in horror the reporters exiting the room, waving and winking at them. The maid stood in the middle of the room, staring in horror at the door while the "vampire" simply kept on sipping his tea, seemingly unaware of what had just transpired. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, the maid finally snapped, tossing the tray to the ground, stomping and pointing at the vampire, revealing a rather masculine voice.

"Lamington! What in the world was THAT for?!"

"You were the one who suggested creating a diversion for your son," Lamington answered with a slight lisp in between his fangs. "I don't see what the problem is."

"You know very well what the problem is." Vyers said indignantly, pointing at the various ruffles on his skirt. "Why am I the woman?"

"Krichevskoy, you know very well I'm too built to easily pass as a woman. While it's possible, it would have raised too many suspicions, don't you think?"

Vyers swore he saw a twinkle in the Seraph's eye, casually hiding it while he poured himself another cup of tea. "And where in the world did you get these ridiculous costumes? Did you really think anyone would buy the vampire thing?"

"Come on now dear or your tea will get cold."

"... you're doing it on purpose now, aren't you?"

...

* * *

...

"It was so nice of Master Lamington to surprise us like this, right Laharl? We have the whole mansion for ourselves!"

Flonne skipped happily towards Laharl, who was still stunned into silence, leaning against the balcony's fence. He would never, ever admit it out loud, but yes, it had been a nice gesture. No one would ever think of looking for them in Celestia, especially not in the Seraph's private mansion, they were free to do whatever they wanted here. Now, he only had to get over the fact that they were in Celestia, and the he technically owed his father for this...

... nope, the mental image of his old man in a skirt was payment enough.

"Only Artina knows we're here, so she'll be able to bring us some supplies if we need them! We won't have any one chasing us around!"

"Yeah," Laharl finally said, managing to internally stab his brain. "But it also means we can't get out of here either!" Not that he really cared about going out, he had other plans in mind.

"It's okay, I found this in the main bedroom! We can use it to go outside!" Flonne giggled, setting down an open cardboard box indentified as 'college stuff'. Inside said box was a pile of old costumes, complete with accessories.

Laharl gaze went from the box to Flonne, and back to the box again...

"... I didn't need to know."

* * *

**AN:** _If there's anything the novels have taught us is that Lamington can be a giant troll sometimes. I am a firm believer that this needs to be exploited more._

_And Laharl and Flonne totally spent their honeymoon doing normal newlywed activities... they discovered Lamington's wall to wall plasma TV and argued whether they should play video games or watch the Prism Rangers the entire time~_


End file.
